Heaven's Plan
by Hisa-Ai
Summary: Heaven had a plan. That plan did not include Arthur Pendragon dying. So how is Castiel going to help Merlin fix it?


**Soooo before I _actually_ finished watching _Merlin, _I was unfortunate enough to stumble upon spoilers for the 5th series ending—thank you, tumblr—and I was, as you can probably guess, quite upset by the whole ordeal. So I wrote this to make myself feel well enough about things to _actually_ finish the series.**

**So. This is set just after the end of the 5th series of _Merlin_ and contains pre-series Castiel from _Supernatural_, and it was my way of coping with the ending before I'd even technically _seen_ _it_. I've obviously finished the series by now, but I'm just now getting around to posting this. And I stand by it. Because denial and all that. Plus the ending of the series was such bullshit anyway. _So I'm fixing it._**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Merlin_ or _Supernatural_ or anything like that.

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_Heaven's Plan_

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**Fic:**

Standing at the edge of the lake, watching Arthur's lifeless form float away on that _stupid_ boat, Merlin felt his world crumble, felt his heart clench in pain as the reality of everything set in.

Arthur was _dead_.

And there was nothing he could do about it. He had failed—failed Arthur, failed his destiny, failed Albion… He had failed _everyone_.

After the boat was finally out of view, Merlin fell to his knees, sobbing hysterically.

No, this couldn't be real, he decided. It was just a terrible dream, and any moment now he would wake up, rush to Arthur's chambers, and the stupid prat would be yelling at him about his breakfast being late. Any moment now, the world was going to make _sense_ again.

He felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder, but thought nothing of it; it could have just as easily have been his imagination, or perhaps one of the knights—well, _dream_ knights, anyway—had found him.

He was too lost in his shadow of grief, in his sea of tears and pain, to care, anyway. It could have been a Saxon waiting to chop his head off and he wouldn't have cared anymore. Without Arthur, what was his life? What made it worth living anymore?

"Emrys... This was not supposed to happen." A gravelly voice said. He didn't recognize it, but dreams were odd like that sometimes, so he didn't pay it much mind.

"Yeah, tell me about it." He sobbed, chest heaving with the effort of having to talk and sob at the same time.

"If it would make things make more sense," the voice said, removing their hand from his shoulder. "I know how confused humans can become sometimes. And over the simplest of things."

Merlin turned his head and saw the person suddenly sitting next to him. Curious as he took in their form—nothing special, really, blue eyes and dark hair, dressed like any random villager from around Camelot, but they had this air, this almost sort of _glow_ about them, that told him they were no ordinary person. Magic, perhaps?—he felt himself calm slightly, felt it easier to breathe.

Wiping his face on his sleeves, he moved to a sitting position with his knees drawn to his chest next to the man, chin resting on his knees as he watched the lake, trying to make out the distant island Gaius had told him about. He wondered if Arthur's boat had made it there and what would happen to him. Would the sidhe find him, protect him, take him? What _truly_ happened on that isle?

He would have to ask Gaius about it when he woke up.

"The Once And Future King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot and his Court Sorcerer Merlin/Emrys—that is you," The man began suddenly. "Were supposed to live _very_ long lives. You were to unite the kingdoms, defeat the Saxons, defeat Mordred and Morgan le Fay—Morgana, in your tongue—if they happened to become a problem, and bring about a Golden Age that would ensure the future of Camelot and magic for centuries to come." The man turned an accusing eye on Merlin then. "He was _not_ supposed to die. You were supposed to _protect_ him."

"You don't think I tried?" Merlin demanded, anger welling up in his chest at the accusatory words and tone. "You don't think I'd do _anything_ to bring him back? Not that it matters, I'll wake up soon enough anyway, and this... _All this_ will be over." He sighed, still watching the lake.

Yes, sleep was usually a relief, a welcome break from reality and his heavy destiny, but he would take the waking hours of being yelled at and bossed around over this nightmare any day.

"Wake up?" The man repeated in confusion, eyes squinting, head tilted. "I do not understand... You think this is a dream? That you are deep in slumber right now?"

Merlin shrugged, closing his eyes, the truth coming down on him as the man said, "This is no dream, Emrys. The Once and Future King truly is dead. This is very real."

Merlin shook his head, blinking back tears. Of course this was _real_. How could he have let himself believe anything else? How could he have let himself feel such childish _hope?_

"So why are you _here?_ Who are you? _What_ are you? How do you know _anything_ about all this?" Merlin asked with a sigh, his words rushed with his grief as he tried to bite back a new wave of tears.

"I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord, and I was assigned to watch over the story of King Arthur and Emrys centuries before you were even born. Heaven had a plan, you see—"

"Hang on," Merlin interrupted, Castiel's deep frown ignored. "You're an _angel?_ You don't look very... angel-y. You look like anyone from the lower town." Angels were supposed to have wings and a halo; they were _not_ supposed to have five day scruff and look like they'd just narrowly escaped death.

Then again, Merlin _had_ felt something different from the moment Castiel had sat down, something beyond magic. Being an angel would certainly explain it. But what did an _angel_ want with him and why was _Heaven_ interested in him and Arthur? Surely, their supposed _great destiny_ was something of little interest to Heaven, especially considering they hadn't even fulfilled it, not truly.

"This is merely a vessel. My true form would cause mass chaos and destruction." Castiel said flippantly. "Now, you and Arthur," he started again, threading one of his hands through the soft grass under them. "Were supposed to do great things. You and Arthur were destined to do and achieve so many things together. I do not understand how things went so wrong." He peered out to Avalon, squinting at seemingly nothing.

"From Lancelot dying to Guinevere marrying Arthur, Morgana causing such pain, Freya dying, Balinor passing, Aithusa turning—tell me, Emrys," Castiel turned back to Merlin, eyes squinting as their blue depths seemed to probe Merlin's as he reminded him of so many great lives lost, so many other people Merlin had failed. "How did your destiny become so knotted up?"

Merlin shrugged, feeling a great sadness with the memories Castiel brought forward. He had failed them all. Had even failed _Heaven_. How could anyone have ever thought he was capable of doing _anything_ great? "You tell me. You're supposed to be the angel watching out for me, for us," he gestured out to Avalon, where Arthur's lifeless body was floating somewhere, somewhere without _him._

"I do not know, I do not understand. There was a plan for you two, but somehow… it went awry. I do not know why, though." Castiel frowned.

Merlin chuckled humorlessly, destiny, plans—he'd heard it all before. Perhaps Kilgharrah had been talking to angels? "You would get on with the Great Dragon." he mumbled with a shake of his head.

Castiel's frown deepened, settling in between his eyes.

"The great dragon?"

"Yeah, Kilgharrah—I thought you said you'd been watching since before I was even born? I've seen him loads of times since first arriving in Camelot."

"Kilgharrah," Castiel mumbled, giving Merlin's mocking tone no mind. "He was the dragon Uther had chained up under the castle? Tell me he is still there."

"Well, no," Merlin admitted, sensing that _maybe_ that was something he shouldn't do. He had the feeling that he had done something very, very _wrong_ and that it clearly involved Kilgharrah. "Not for a while now."

"What? Where is he?" And if Castiel's voice wasn't still so flat and emotionless, Merlin would have _sworn_ he was panicked about the prospect of Kilgharrah being out there and _free._

"I don't know anymore." Merlin shrugged. Why did Castiel, an _angel_, care about where a _dragon_ was anyway? And why didn't he know about him? He seemed to know about everything else that had happened, so why—

"How did he get out?" Castiel demanded.

"I let him out."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I promised him... And he's the last of his kind, so I thought he should be free?"

"Last of his kind? _Emrys,_ there are dragons all over the _world_. Kilgharrah is not the last of his kind by any measure."

Merlin's eyes widened, but... _No._ That couldn't be right. Why would he tell Merlin that he was, then? Why would he lie like that?

"But... he was chained up, he..."

"Did you ever think there was a reason for that?"

"I thought it was because Uther hated magic?"

"Kilgharrah was... _unstable_, if you will," Castiel explained slowly, eyes tired all of a sudden. "He was known for taking prophecies and... twisting them to fit his own agenda. Most dragons will tell the prophecies as they are, no matter what, but Kilgharrah was always known to be vindictive and biased. That is why he was allowed to be chained up, why he allowed himself to believe he was the last of his kind. It was for the benefit of all."

"But then I let him out..." Merlin mumbled in realization, hit with a new wave of guilt. If he had only listened to Gaius, to his instinct, Arthur might still be alive.

It really _was_ all his fault.

"No, things were off track before then," Castiel told him. "Probably the first time you met with him. It all makes sense now: your destiny becoming so twisted, so knotted, me not seeing certain things—it was all Kilgharrah's doing," he frowned again. He did that a lot, Merlin noted, and he didn't know if that was just how Castiel _was_ or if the situation at hand was just upsetting and stressing him out.

"But... why would the Great Dragon want to sabotage my destiny?"

"You are the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth, Emrys. I am sure there was some jealousy on his part. Not to mention desperation and loneliness that might have led to him seeking whatever sort of revenge he could on the Pendragons who caused him such suffering..." Castiel trailed off, falling into silence as Merlin digested his words.

All that time, he had thought that Kilgharrah was helping him, that they were _friends_, when, _really_, he was only trying to get his revenge. He had never wanted to help Merlin, he had only wanted to hurt Uther and Arthur.

How could Merlin have been so naive?

"So what..." Merlin began, making sure to have Castiel's attention before going on. "What was the plan _before_ Kilgharrah interfered? How were things supposed to go? What were our destinies before all this? Without Kilgharrah, would we still have wound up at this lake?"

He had to know. Had to know if Kilgharrah had succeeded in getting his revenge, in making a fool out of Merlin. It wouldn't change anything, but… He had to know, at the very least, what the true cause of Arthur's death was.

Castiel watched him for a moment, blue eyes searching blue eyes with unwavering intensity until he sighed at last, eyes back on the lake.

"Lancelot was not meant to die, Morgana would have redeemed herself after Uther's passing, Mordred never would have come into play, the knights of the Round Table would all be alive, Freya would have lived a longer life before becoming Lady of the Lake, Arthur would not have wed Guinevere—she truly belonged with Lancelot; there was mass chaos in Heaven when she married Arthur instead—Balinor would not have passed so suddenly, Aithusa would have become a great dragon, Arthur would have allowed magic back in Camelot, you would have become his Court Sorcerer, the two of you would have united Albion, creating a land of peace and prosperity.

"Eventually, you would have unlocked amazing secrets and wonders from the Old Religion, as you call it. You would have cast a spell—with Arthur's blessing, that part would have been really important to you—over Camelot to... How to put this... Maintain and protect it from the years. You, Arthur, the knights, a few select other people of the court, the kingdom, would have been immortal, and your city would have flourished and been safe and frozen in your time for all eternity. You were to create a utopia. But then—"

"But then Kilgharrah interfered," Merlin nodded.

"Yes, the dragon. He put a stop to it. Very unfortunate." Castiel sighed.

"And why does Heaven care about any of this?" Merlin asked, closing his eyes against what could have been.

A utopia.

Just for _them_.

It would have been amazing, but... God, how could he live with himself now, knowing that he had been on the verge of something so amazing, that he was going to do such amazing and wonderful things for him, for the kingdom, for Arthur? How could he go on now? It was bad enough losing Arthur, but losing Arthur _and_ the promise of such great things...

How could he be expected to handle all that?

"Because your power will be used to save all of humanity, heaven, and earth. But only if your powers are allowed to mature and flourish. For you to become powerful and skilled enough to save humanity, to save _heaven_, you need a utopia, Emrys. And it needs to be one you created with your other half." Castiel explained.

Merlin nodded slowly, took in his bottom lip like he did when he was nervous or thinking too much about something or another. He had to get past it all. Had to get past what could have been, but... So many questions were popping up, he had so much to mull over, to think about. It was all becoming too much for him.

"So it was never _Arthur_ that mattered? It was always _me?_" Merlin asked after a moment, pushing through the cloud of questions to try to focus his thoughts.

"To Heaven, it was you. But to you, it was Arthur. So it was Arthur to Heaven, as well."

"But why?"

"With Arthur dead, it was felt that you would not be able to create a utopia. And from the state of things, I suspect that they were right when they decided that Arthur was needed for you to flourish. You do not come across as a great sorcerer, succumbing to such human emotions at the loss of one who treated you so badly much of the time. It was their mistake in the first place—making the pair of you two halves of the same whole was never going to end well—but it was one that was felt necessary for the survival of Heaven."

Such twisted logic, Merlin knew well enough by now, was common when it came to _destiny_. He supposed he might have been better off not questioning it. If the great dragon couldn't even explain it simply enough—though if what Castiel said about him was true, Merlin would have to stop thinking about what he had said and done in the time they knew each other as _fact_—he doubted an angel would do much better.

"But now... All is doomed? Heaven and Earth are lost because of Kilgharrah? Because of me?"

"No. Now that I know what caused this, I can fix it." Castiel stood up from the grass, still peering out at Avalon.

"How?" Merlin asked curiously. Was he going to bring Arthur back? Could he do that? What limits were there to an angel's powers? _Were_ there any? Did he have to obey the laws of the Old Religion? Adhere to the balance of life and death and all that?

"By sending you back to the beginning."

"The beginning? Of what?" Merlin pushed off the grass as well, his grief out-weighed by curiosity and wondering, a spark of something or another to come from this angel who claimed to have a plan for him and his deceased love.

"The beginning of your tale. I am going to send you back to the day you first arrived in Camelot, and you are going to relive it all, exactly as you already have, with this knowledge. _But," _He gave Merlin a stern, warning look. "You are going to stay away from the dragon this time. If you stay away from Kilgharrah, your destiny _will_ be fulfilled." He said, the whisper of a promise in his tone.

Merlin took in a breath that he let out slowly, looking between Avalon and Castiel. He saw in the angel's eyes that he had little say in this. This was Heaven's plan for him, for Arthur, and he was going to have to go along with it whether he wanted to or not.

He couldn't say, though, that it was a thought he hated.

Heart thumping with excitement and hope and eagerness, he asked after a beat, "Will anyone else remember?"

"They might have a sense of things repeating, but none but you will remember it."

"And I have to do exactly as I did the first time around? What if I don't remember?"

"You will. Trust me. But ignore the dragon. That is the most important thing you can do." Castiel closed the distance between him and Merlin then, stood just in front of him, raised his hand to his forehead.

"And if I do that… we won't wind up back here? At this lake?" It wasn't the worst plan in the world to go back in time to fix it all, but... if they were just going to end up back at the lake... He didn't know if he could handle it. Not again.

"No. If you go back and do it correctly this time… All should be well. Your destiny will be on the correct path again, and Heaven and Earth will be able to call on you when you are needed most." Castiel told him.

Merlin nodded at his words, drew in a breath. He was going to meet Arthur again. He was going to save his life and go through years of being his manservant, falling in love and saving his life day in and day out, all over again... Sure, the prince wouldn't remember him, but in time their relationship would develop all over again, and _oh,_ how magnificent and wonderful it was going to be!

He smiled for the first time in what felt like years; perhaps Arthur dying hadn't been the worst thing in the world after all, not if it meant getting to relive it all—all the pain and tears and smiles and happiness and memories and fun and love and heartache—all over again. It might have actually been one of the _best_ things to ever happen to him, in a way.

"Good luck, Emrys. And if you are ever in need of any help, I am just a prayer away. Heaven needs you to succeed, after all."

And then a harsh, white light engulfed Merlin and when he opened his eyes, he wasn't at Avalon anymore, but at the gates of Camelot, about to meet his destiny once again.

**Fin.**

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**It's a headcanon of mine that, after Arthur's death, angels would visit Merlin from time to time to help keep him sane, remind him of his destiny, keep him from doing anything _too_ stupid, keep him from becoming lonely... Obviously, most of the angels from SPN are dickbags, but there are others who were pretty decent and I see them popping in on him over the years. Greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth and all that, one would think Heaven would want to keep an eye on that.**

**I definitely see Merlin and Gabriel, and Merlin and Balthazar getting into all sorts of crazy fun together—or at least, getting on pretty well. I like to think that they would remind him of the knights and all the fun they had together. You know, before most of them died.**

**And I'm sorry about any OOCnes on Cas' part; I've never written him before, but I figured his explanation of things would be better than Gabriel's would, so I had to at least _attempt_ to write him. Plus he's _Cas_, so.**

**Always,  
Hisa-Ai.**


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